


The precious name written on my heart

by VictorianLesbian



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Emotionally Incompetent Witches, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Hecate is more oblivious and dumb than usual, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pippa Pentangle is a pent-angel, Pippa and Hecate didn't go to school together, Pippa is also oblivious but a little less, Romance, Slow Burn, Soulmates, a lil bondage bat and a sweet glazed donut find love, family feud au, useless lesbian witches, witches in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 08:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15748401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictorianLesbian/pseuds/VictorianLesbian
Summary: Every witch and wizard knows that soulmates exist. Their name will appear when you least expect it on your body, and the closer to the heart the name appears, the stronger the bond with your soulmate will be.Hecate is sixteen when she wakes up on the first night of January, she observes how the name, which was not there before, is now engraved on her still sensitive flesh, bright pink and full of curls.Pippa had finished school that spring and had watched as every witch of her age had received the name of their soulmate during those years. Everyone loved her and, even if the name struggled to appear on her skin, she was told that she had everything she could wish for most.A Hicsqueak soulmates!Au that nobody asked for





	The precious name written on my heart

**Author's Note:**

> The 9th april I began to write this story and, after four months of gestation, it came to light!  
> The biggest thanks in the world (and my eternal devotion) goes to troiing to be a magnificent beta and for telling me "write it!" "Translate it!" sometimes I need a boost.  
> Thanks also to always-la-belle-epoque and amillionmillionvoices who also boosted me. You are wonderful, girls! <3

_ The Name will burn on your skin and you will lose your breath  _ __   
_ it will be burned inside you  _ _   
_ __ and this is how you will learn that love is not always a simple way to go 

*****

Every witch and wizard knows that soulmates exist. Their name will appear when you least expect it on your body, and the closer to the heart the name appears, the stronger the bond with your soulmate will be. 

Hecate is sixteen when she wakes up on the first night of January, with a searing pain passing through her chest. It seems to her that her left breast is on fire while an invisible blade pierces her skin below. Hecate gasps, clings to the mattress; it seems to last an eternity but it's only a few seconds and, just as quickly as it had arrived, the intense sensation of fire on her skin suddenly goes away, leaving her dazed and sweaty despite the cold that envelops the room in the first days of the new year. She gasps; her mouth is parched and her tongue heavy, as she tries to understand what happened in those brief moments. With trembling hands she unbuttons the front of her pajamas while, with legs still not very stable, she approaches the mirror of the vanity. It takes a couple of moments before her eyes can make out the sign beneath her left breast, the soft light of dawn filtering through the window of her dormitory while the school is still shrouded in the silence of the night.

She observes how the name, which was not there before, is now engraved on her still sensitive flesh, bright pink and full of curls. She reads the letters calmly by touching them with trembling fingers. A “P” almost completely covers the right side of her breast with its frills, Hecate smiles and thinks about how it’s out of place on the skin of a tall and gangly witch like her. The “i” is written in a delicate cursive like the double “p” that follows and, in the end, the “a” is decorated with gentle curls that reminds Hecate of the stems of a delicate flower. 

_ Pippa. _

When the name is cemented in her mind, she wonders what kind of witch could have a name like that. She is tall and austere, dressed in dark colours, without ribbons and frills, yet she finds herself with a name in an embarrassing shade of magenta etched into her skin, and not a traditional name at that. Witches have loved other witches since the dawn of time, and Hecate had always dreamed that the name of a Miranda, an Edvige, might appear on her; even a Persephone would have been better than a Pippa. She frowns, thinking about how she can find fault with her destiny, realizing just a moment after that the name actually belongs to another witch, a girl. She feels relieved and ecstatic in the next moment, thanking the goddess for not having to wear the name of a man under her breast forever. 

She would like to shout for joy in the deserted dormitory--“I will have a girlfriend!”--but she is, for the whole school, Hecate Hardbroom, the girl with a broomstick tucked up her back, the girl without friends, the nerd of the class. Inflexible Hardbroom, belonging to a lineage of wizards and witches who have made the history of magic in Britain. She will not rejoice; she will not show Pippa's name sculpted in the pale flesh of her left breast.   
  


She will hide the name of her soulmate under skirts and layers and layers of clothes.   
She will keep it safe near her heart. 

Days pass; so do the months and the seasons and, before she realizes it, she spends a whole year without meeting a single Pippa. She is strangely inclined to attend the parties of Samhain and Yule which are organized at school; her teachers seem the most surprised when she enters the great hall at the beginning of the party organized together with another nearby academy. She stays all evening looking at the girls, anxious to see if one might return her gaze but, when the big hall is empty and Miss Amethyst's girls return to their school, Hecate feels stupid and discouraged and from that day she doesn’t participate in any more of those stupid useless parties. 

School ends and, suddenly, she is thrown into the adult world. Her constant thirst for knowledge is not easily quenched and she attends every university course with every master of potions she can find from the north to the south of her homeland. She is so immersed in learning the craft that sometimes she even forgets that there is a soulmate out there somewhere that is waiting for her. When she does think of her, she wonders, quite often, how she is. Sometimes she imagines that her Pippa is her exact opposite, a beautiful and brilliant witch with whom to share her love for potions and The Code, but then the panic assails her. If Pippa is beautiful like the curls that surround her name, she will never want a clumsy and lanky witch like her, looking stern and rigid. She doesn’t want to think about Pippa, how she could disappoint her if she knew that her soulmate was her. Maybe she already met her and she pretended to have another name to escape the curse that would have bound them.

It is only when Hecate turns twenty-five that she decides that more than a blessing, the name of the soulmate is a curse. 

She will not look for her anymore. 

From then on she works hard to achieve her objectives by immersing herself in dusty tomes, studying until the last book of magical herbs and ingredients. Prestigious works for the ministry are offered to her. For months the Great Wizard, who holds in high esteem her opinion as a mistress of potions, courts her to become a consultant of potions at the council. But she refuses each job; her life is potions, and there are flowers and herbs to be collected in the moonlight. 

She spends years wandering through the woods of the country for miles and miles accompanied only by the name on her chest and the song of the birds watching her from their branches as they build a nest for their family. 

Hecate gets lost imagining her and Pippa building a nest, a house for themselves, and it is the first time in years that she allows herself to think again of her soulmate, lost goddess knows where in the world. The sun's rays hit her sharp cheekbones and her complexion, usually pale like the moon, tinges in a light pink. 

Working behind a desk is not her dream. Hers is a rich, powerful family of the magical world, and she doesn’t feel the need to find a job until she decides that one is her place. 

And her place shows up in the form of Ada Cackle. A sweet witch with a dark and twisted history with her own soulmate. Agatha is the name of her soulmate and her twin, a dark and unkind witch even in her youth. Ada, full of kindness and careful courtesy, had wanted only Agatha’s friendship and acceptance, and her own lightness had been jeopardized by that blind desire when they were younger.

Now that Hecate is older, she knows that soulmates are not always lovers or romances, knows that many have been at odds with each other their whole lives, many who never understand why fate contrived to bond them to their soulmate, and some who despise fate because of it. That for every story of true and abiding love between soulmates, there is one of endless contention. There have also been many siblings who were soulmates, and it is sometimes said that two people bonded by both blood and fate share the strongest bonds of all, for better or worse. Hecate longs for Pippa’s approval even though they have never met; she thinks she understands how Ada could have been corrupted by Agatha. How much stronger must their bond have been, knowing each other their whole lives, being siblings?

She hopes desperately that she and Pippa will never be enemies.

Hecate accepts the position Ada offers her as potions teacher, and as the youngest deputy headmistress that the academy has ever seen. 

It will be fun, she thinks, to instill in young minds her own love for and devotion to potions. It's exciting and new, and provides a stability that she didn’t know she needed or wanted until now. She gives herself only a moment to wonder if a spell has been cast on her, and quickly realises that sooner or later the desire to stop and build a life in a place of her own would inevitably have happened. 

The years pass under the Cackle’s roof and she really builds a home there with Ada, but also with the other teachers of the academy. She still instills a sense of terror like in school, but now only towards the children entrusted to her. Her austere looks, the tightly tied bun on the top of her head, her black clothes so close-fitting that rumors circulate that Miss Hardbroom does not even need to breathe. Her long, sharp, black nails beat a rhythm on the shell of the clock perpetually at her neck.

Potions is such a dangerous matter that only a millesimal mistake can turn a peaceful April day into a tragedy. The tuft of griffon hair instead of unicorn, in the wrong potion, can blow up the whole school. Little girls think that every rebuke, on her part, is excessive but they don’t know how many lives she saw lost just because they mistakenly weighed an ingredient, or completely forgot it. 

Potions are dangerous, so she becomes dangerous. 

Like in her school days, the girls start calling her nicknames that emphasize her rigidity but she doesn’t worry. It seems that the art of the craft is weaker in the new generations and if she has to use a firm hand and sharp words just to avoid tragedy every day, then she will do it. 

Only in the night, when she is alone in her rooms, does she allow herself a moment of pause. Lonely, naked in her bathtub, she gently caresses the printed letters on her breast and sighs, draining the endless worries of the day. She talks with Pippa, sometimes; she asks her what she would do with Mildred and Enid if she were in her place. She never sought love in other witches during all those years. She already knows she belongs and, although some witches think that fate can simply be ignored, she is not of the same opinion. She often wonders if Pippa is still waiting for her or has fallen in love with other witches, if she has ever tasted the lips of another woman, if she ever fell into other people's sheets. 

She comes out of the water before it becomes completely cold, dries with a quick spell, dresses herself for the night, and doesn’t think about it anymore. 

That night she dreams of pink veils that gently envelop her like a caress. 

Relations with neighboring academies are almost non-existent; each school is so rooted in its territory and its teaching methods that it is difficult for the various academies of the country to communicate with each other. 

Except on very rare occasions. 

The spelling bee is one of those occasions. 

Ada announces the news that morning during breakfast and the big hall immediately fills with the excited buzz of the girls. The pupils who will participate in the competitions against the other schools are selected and everything seems to be going right. They win every race against neighboring academies and easily reach the semi-finals, disarming other schools that lose with disastrous scores. Hecate feels proud of her teachings and, although people say that she has no tact with children and is not meant to teach young minds, it seems that, with her method, the school is making a great impression. It’s not until the final that Hecate has to worry but, just the night before the imminent competition against Pentangle’s, one of their girls is caught by a sudden magic fever and all Hecate and Ada can do is rely on Mildred Hubble.

Hecate is aware that it will be entirely a disaster. 

*****

When Phyllis was a child she had a name bigger than her, precious silks of a bright pink to wrap her and the unconditional love of everyone around her. She felt like a princess in her castle at Pentangle’s, her family's school that she would eventually direct. Everybody cuddled and coddled her, cooks, teachers and every student who passed through Pentangle’s loved her. Her childhood was happy and school was just as carefree even if she had to leave the country to study. Her parents had sent her to an academy in France, where the name of Pentangle was not known and no one could have favored her only for the surname she wore. 

She had finished school that spring and had watched as every witch of her age had received the name of their soulmate during those years. Her usual cheerfulness and lightness seemed undermined by the one thing that made her different from all her schoolmates and friends. Her mother told her continuously that the person who was destined for her would arrive at the right time and she wanted to believe it, she had to, or she would be so sad that everyone around her would suffer from her sudden melancholy. She struggled to always be happy and satisfied with what she had. Everyone loved her and, even if the name struggled to appear on her skin, she was told that she had everything she could wish for most. 

The Provence sun has gilded her skin and burned her hair, making her even more blonde than when she had left when she was a child. She is eighteen now, and has suitors, witches and wizards, on either side of the English Channel asking for her hand. She has declined every offer despite the name struggling to appear on her skin. She has heard terrible stories about unmatched people, and she can only hope she is not one of them.

Finally, the sun sets on Yule; the day had been long and full of festivities. She is happy again with her family, once again the princess of Pentangle’s, again in her childhood room to put away the gifts that were given to her during the day by the people she loves. 

She stands up suddenly, overwhelmed; she feels an intense fire rising from her chest. Her breath is missing while her body seems suddenly shaken by a magical, mysterious fever. She wants to shout  _ "Mum, Dad, help! Help!" _ But the words can’t go beyond her lips until everything stops suddenly. 

She remains panting in a static immobility that seems to be magically created; she looks at the ceiling of her room for a few moments until she can rise from the floor. She feels a dull ache around her breasts and without thinking twice she strips off all her clothes, knowing exactly what she will find beneath them. She reads the name twice quickly, wants to hear the sound on her tongue, as it sounds elegant to her hearing. 

_ Hecate, Hecate. _

She wants to cry and laugh at the same time; she wants to run to her mother to show it, but there are still her old uncles in her parents' living room, so she will have to wait.

She looks at the thin frill of the "H" in black ink, which now winds around the areola of her breast. 

_ Hecate. _

_ Hecate. _

She repeats it like a litany in a low voice. The "c" and the "t" tap on her tongue, flow into her throat and fill her senses like sticky honey. She feels happy, she finally feels complete. 

Hecate is not a common name, or anyway it's a name she has never heard of except in some history books. It is a traditional and ancient name and, beyond its uniqueness, Pippa knows she will not have to look hard for her soulmate. After all, how many women with that name will present themselves to her? 

She participates in parties and events, and soon becomes the most desired guest of wealthy families and powerful magical families. She meet much of the magical world, but never a Hecate. 

She participates in seminars on education. She wants to take over the family legacy with good preparation behind her. She will not become a headmistress of Pentangle’s Academy just by tradition, she will do it with knowledge and professionalism. 

Her heart stumbles when she discovers that, at a conference in London, there will be a workshop focusing on the magical pedagogy of a certain Hecate Sweetlove who comes from the United States with new and innovative methods. 

Pippa approaches the conference room with her heart beating furiously in her chest. She tries to take deep breaths and not to feel too overwhelmed by the possibility. What if this Hecate isn’t  _ her  _ Hecate? She closes her eyes as her hand lowers the handle and moves one step into the room. Pippa sees a group of people sitting in a circle around a short witch who is almost completely hidden by the people around her. She approaches with uncertain steps as she tries to remember how to walk on her high-heeled shoes. 

Every step brings her closer to the woman named Hecate and when finally –  _ finally _ \- she sees her, the disappointment manifests immediately on her features. The little woman with untidy hoary hair on her head will be over a hundred and as far as Pippa knows she would have loved Hecate whatever her appearance, she cannot help feeling deeply disappointed by the woman in front of her  that now welcomes her with a “well met” by asking her name and the name of her school. Pippa tries to assume the kindest and most collected expression she possesses as she relates her credentials, and the rest of the room falls silent to watch in awe. 

Pippa cannot follow a word from the seminar, too desperate to be in the presence of this woman who does not give her any emotion. She can’t feel her magic connected to her; it's not her Hecate. At the end of the lesson Miss Sweetlove greets her by shaking hands and Pippa can see, in a faded blue ink, the name of a man on the wrist of the old witch. For the first time in her life, she feels very relieved that she has not found her soulmate. 

Pippa heard stories of soulmates that never found each other, who were born in different ages.   
She and Hecate may have to suffer loneliness for the rest of their lives. She begs the Goddess not to reserve her such a cruel fate. 

She is almost forty years old when she feels ready to take command of Pentangle’s, and the school blooms under her guidance. The students are full of talent and the new teaching techniques allow each of them to express their abilities to the utmost. All the workshops and seminars that she has followed over the years help her to make her school modern, a vanguard of new approaches to learning. Pippa is happy and, even if she knows that something is always missing, she focuses on her pupils and her trusted collaborators, her parents, now happily retired in the south of France. 

She sometimes becomes infatuated with some beautiful woman in some conference, but it's just a passing thought and then Pippa goes back to looking at the name written in strong black ink on her skin and she knows who she wants to belong to for eternity. She is often lost in imagining this woman who has been destined for her and sometimes thinks of her as a kind soul, a woman with deep dark eyes and a kitten's heart. Sometimes, while she traces the writing with her fingertip, she imagines that Hecate is as strong and untamed as the marked letters that make up the name on her breast. 

The day she receives  _ The Letter _ in her study she feels strangely uneasy. She hasn’t slept well all week; her dreams are agitated and she feels like she's on the edge of a precipice, just before a catastrophic storm. 

A recurring nightmare from when she was a child returns every night to visit her. She remembers having this dream many times since her childhood. A girl of her age with long black hair framing a delicate pale face, eyes dark and deep like galaxies, and the kindest smile Pippa has ever seen. She remembers her but it is always in her dreams that they meet. She had talked about her to her parents, who had never been able to tell her who the girl was. Yet Pippa is sure she had met her in her castle when they were both still very young. 

Every time, in her nightmares, she sees the girl leave her, increasingly distant and unattainable. Pippa tries to call her, to tell her not to go away, but every time the other girl doesn’t seem able to hear her pleas and cries. She wakes up every time sweaty and with a sore throat and the awareness that, out there, this girl really exists. 

She opens the letter from the magic council informing her that, this year too, the spelling bee will be held. In previous years she had not wanted to cause her students such stress in a silly school competition, but this year she had heard that every school will participate and that it will be a competition open to the whole country. Things have not been going well with the Council lately. They criticize her openness to students from non-magical families; the school has been under the observation of the Great Wizard himself, who felt entitled to appear suddenly without any warning just to try and find some trouble at Pentangle’s. 

Pippa is tired of constantly having to defend the school from traditionalists and bigots and she thinks that this year they will participate in the spelling bee only to show that her methods are as valid as the traditional ones, maybe better. 

Her best students are put on the field and, as she foresaw, they beat the much-appreciated traditional schools with ease. She feels in equal parts happy and proud of her pupils. But witches look with disgust at her accompanying young wizards.

«Witches should only teach other witches» she hears an older witch saying as if it were unseemly for her to have a co-ed school. She does not understand why witches are seen as inferior, how wizards can be held in higher regard simply because they were born male. Yet they come to the final, beating all the competitors  - boys’ and girls’ academies alike - and she notices the name of their last contender for the first time: Cackle’s Academy.

The evening before the final Pippa gives herself the time of fix her hair with her own hands; it's a pleasure that sometimes she likes to indulge. It feels good to use her own fingers to remove the clips and ornaments from her golden hair. She undresses with the same slowness, drained from a tiring day and with the thought that, tomorrow will be an even more tiring day. She looks at her reflection in the mirror and her eyes fall instinctively towards the black writing that is just visible beneath the lace of her bra. 

She wonders if Hecate would be proud of what she has built, of what she does here, in her school. She wonders with terror if she is one of those traditionalists, tied only to that old Witches Code or if instead she is a dreamer like her. A woman who is not afraid to face the unknown, to get involved for what she loves. 

Yes, she decides, her Hecate must be exactly like her, otherwise fate would not have matched with her. 

*****

When Hecate sees the Pentangle’s delegation enter by the gates of Cackle’s she immediately sees a flash of pink that deprives her of sight for a very long second. Everything her family has ever said about the Pentangles - how they were a family of troublemakers and rebels, how they didn’t care about The Code, and how horrible they were - everything she had learned to hate as a child disappears at the exact moment when their eyes meet. 

She sees Ada overtake her quickly to go and welcome Miss Pentangle, greeting her with a ceremonious "Well met" that the woman dressed in pink returns with a warm smile that seems to burn Hecate's face just like that night when her breasts burned many years ago. 

Hecate, clutching her pocket watch like an anchor of salvation, takes a step towards the small group gathered together trying to behave. It is the first time that the two academies have had contact. So different in tradition and method, in all those years they had nothing to share. 

Pippa looks at the woman approaching her and it seems to her that space and time suddenly stop around them. 

«Hecate Hardbroom, Cackle’s deputy Headmistress.» Hecate says, addressing her with the traditional greeting, without ever shifting her eyes from Pippa’s. 

Pippa's heart suddenly stops and then starts beating at a higher frequency than normal. She is sure that it’s  _ her  _ with a single glance. She feels she must be the happiest person on the face of the earth and cannot wait to pronounce her name aloud, Hecate will know that it's her, she must know it from the way in which their eyes seem unable to leave those of the other. 

«Phyllis, Phyllis Pentangle, Pentangle’s Headmistress.» Pippa uses her full name; surely destiny will write her full name on the body of her soulmate, but Hecate's face doesn’t light up, doesn’t change, no emotion passes on those sharp cheekbones and Pippa's blinding smile fades into defeat. 

Her instinct was wrong, even this is not her Hecate. She feels so stupid for hoping, for believing she had found her after all this time. It's harder to accept than the last time because this Hecate is beautiful, tall, statuary, her posture so solemn and her face so beautiful that she could kiss her anyway and would be satisfied all the same, even if they aren’t soulmates. 

The day proceeds in a healthy competition between the two schools and, even if in the end Pentangle’s loses, they are all invited to a party in the great hall. Hecate can’t find a reason to not continue to follow the beautiful, pink Pentangle’s headmistress who, despite the defeat, smiles and congratulates all the participants. 

Especially Mildred Hubble.

Her feet seem to move independently of her will and, suddenly, she finds herself beside Miss Pentangle. The beginning of the conversation is embarrassing. Hecate feels silly; she seems to be one of those stupid girls in her school who gravitate around the most popular girl in the class. But when Phyllis starts talking about using ingredients with as much enthusiasm as Hecate, Hecate cannot find inside her the voice that reminds her that she is in public, that she must be stern and collected. She doesn’t want to stop hearing Miss Pentangle's voice while she asks her opinion on the use of red carnation rather than pink, or the African lizard spleen in favor of the local one. 

Pippa feels absolutely electrified by Hecate; she must physically restrain herself from kissing her more than once during the party, remembering that they do not know each other and Hecate isn’t, unfortunately, her soulmate.

Neither of the women wants the day to end; Pippa makes Hecate promise to mirror her to be able to talk to her again before taking leave and returning to Pentangle’s with her students. 

After one week of waiting for the call, it’s clear to Pippa that Hecate Hardbroom will not take the initiative. She finds the most trivial excuse about using Belladonna in the potion against the flu that is holding half of her pupils in bed (and she knows very well that in the potion there are precisely 10 grams and even a child of the first year knows the differences between Belladonna and Acanthus) but she can’t find a more convincing excuse to mirror Hecate. She puts on her makeup, leaves her hair down and chooses one of her favorite dresses, a magenta pink that makes her feel powerful but also at ease. She feels like a fool to put so many expectations into the call. Maybe Hecate will not even answer, and she spent half her day preparing for it. 

Hecate hears the call at her mirror and frowns. She raises her eyes from the book that she was reading and approaches the mirror. When the name of Phyllis Pentangle appears, she feels restless and terrified. For a long moment she contemplates not answering, but the memory of her voice bursts, uninvited, into her mind. 

Trembling, she accepts the call.

The first look at her leaves Hecate breathless. Phyllis is even more beautiful than she remembered. She forces her voice to work with a “Well met” that looks more like a hiccup rather than a word. The pink witch laughs and Hecate feels much less anxious hearing the strange squeak that comes out of her mouth. 

They are easily lost in a long conversation on the properties of Belladonna and Acanthus, passing from potions to spells to chess. Neither one wants to leave the conversation first but when it's nearly time for dinner, Pippa promises Hecate that they see each other soon for a chess match. 

The suggestion is successful and, after what Pippa compels herself not to call a first date, their chess matches become rather a weekly appointment. Pippa sneaks out of Pentangle’s after dinner on Friday night to land at Cackle’s. Hecate is as happy as ever and, for the first time in her life, she feel a new feeling, an unknown feeling. Friendship has never been her speciality; she is all hard corners and sharp words, but Phyllis loves her sarcasm and laughs at her jokes. 

Chess games are just an excuse to see each other and, for the first time in her life, Hecate doesn’t mind losing a few games if she can make Phyllis smile and see her emanate that magical glow every time she is happy. 

Phyllis Pentangle is beauty, grace, and pure joy, but this doesn’t mean that they agree on everything.

The first time that they have an argument, Hecate has just taken Pippa’s rook with her queen and she feels exhilarated after losing the last two games. She is one step away from victory and they are discussing the Magic Council and how some magic families are believed to be the only holders of magic in the world. Hecate lets a comment slip on how Mildred Hubble should not even be in school, considering her non-magical family. Pippa is shocked to hear in Hecate the same words of the Great Wizard. The man that she most despises in the world—the same words pronounced by the beautiful scarlet lips of Hecate. 

When she makes no move on the board Hecate looks up from the chessboard and meets Pippa's gaze. Her eyes, usually calm and sweet, have turned upset and determined. It’s a look so passionate that Hecate asks herself if the woman sitting in front of her is the same woman of a few minutes before. 

Pippa grips her queen tightly in the palm of her hand, the clear solid wood against her skin keeping her grounded against the tide of emotions that swells in her chest. She responds to Hecate's tone; she defends Mildred and the other special kids like her. Pippa hears Hecate’s mocking laugh and she feels her heart crack unpleasantly. Hecate defends the Code and witching traditions and Pippa, for the first time, realizes that Hecate really may not be her soulmate. She simply cannot believe she is, her brave soulmate, ready to challenge the world with her holding hands and facing everything together. 

Pippa feels a weight fall into her stomach. She gets up from the chair without finishing the game and leaves for Pentangle’s, leaving Hecate to turn over in bed all night without being able to sleep.  

Stupid, she had been so stupid. Of course she had hurt Miss Pentangle, knowing about her non-traditional school, and reproaching her anyway. Her father's words of hate against the Pentangles echo unwanted and uncomfortable on her mind and she hates herself even more for being so similar to him.

She caresses the name underneath her breasts and feels bad for the first time in her life. Maybe, but only maybe, she should stop chasing a ghost just because her name is tattooed on her skin when, now, there is a woman in her life who matters so much, who makes her happy, who makes her laugh and doesn’t consider her only a grumpy old broom. A true friend for which she could try to change, at least a little; at the very least she could be less grumpy. She hurt her and it seems to her that the skin engraved with Pippa’s name doesn’t want to let her sleep tonight, throbbing painfully against her ribs. 

Phyllis does not appear on the following Friday and Hecate decides to swallow her pride and present herself at Pentangle’s the following morning with a vase of the rarest flowers on earth as a gift to beg for forgiveness. 

She knocks at the door of Pentangle's Headmistress with her heart in her throat repenting a moment too late. What if Phyllis doesn’t want to meet her? What happens if she makes things worse with her gesture? Maybe she should simply give her space and time and not rush like a teenager in love with the first disagreement between them. She feels so stupid, but she has no time for self-pity; Phyllis opens the door and she finds herself once again speechless. The eyes of the other witch are at the first moment beaming and then a moment later bored. 

«What do you want Miss Hardbroom?» She asks with fake courtesy, using her last name to make her feel unwanted, forcing herself to bite her lip so as not to smile at Hecate's sight at her door.

«I...» Hecate would like to tell her to forgive her, that it’s not easy for her to make friends, that she has never had a friend in her life, and now she has ruined everything and she understands if she doesn’t want to talk to her again. She is sorry for having scoffed at her school, her values, at what she believes in. She's sorry to be just a silly woman hardened by age; she is sorry and she would like to say that if only someone believed in her, like Phyllis believe in her students, then maybe –  _ maybe _ \- she would be a different woman.

But the words don’t come. Pippa's gaze settles on the newborn seedling in Hecate's hands.    
«Middlemist camellia!» She exclaims, eyes wide and open-mouthed, a sudden glow of joy in her features. «It is the rarest plant in the world! How did you get it? Do you have any idea of the applications in potions that this plant has?» Pippa asks unbelievingly, though of course she knows that Hecate knows the application of middlemist camellia more than anyone else in the world. 

But it's not just its applications in potions which have pushed Hecate to choose, among all, just that seedling.  

The camelia flowers are the same pink as the dress that Phyllis wore the first time they met and its rarity is equal only to the rarity of a kindness, goodness, warmth like Phyllis’. Her reasons are much more sentimental than Hecate will ever reveal out loud.

«It’s for you,» stutters Hecate, pushing it into the hands of an absolutely stunned Pippa. «I want you to forgive me,» she manages to confess, even if she feels a little silly and a little dazed by the contact of her hands with Phyllis’ hands - Phyllis, who now looks at her with a smile so bright that, for a moment, Hecate thinks she will be dazzled by it, that smile will melt her like the sun melted Icarus' wings and she will fall to the ground and she will die of heartbreak just looking at Phyllis’ happy face, but she will die happy because her - no, not  _ hers _ \- Phyllis is smiling again.

Hecate feels her face burning and she hopes so much that Phyllis will not mention it, but Phyllis simply accepts the bud with a smile and a light touch to her fingers before proposing to go and plant it in the Pentangle’s greenhouse. 

While they walk toward their destination, the words begin to flow from Hecate's lips like magic: she apologizes several times for her behaviour.

By the end of the morning, Pippa has forgiven her. Hecate could fly with happiness, even without the aid of a levitation potion. 

They resume their weekly visits and Pippa feels closer and closer to Hecate in a way that makes her heart beat faster and inflame the name on her chest. More than once, around the chess table, or on Cackle's roof watching the stars during the summer, she is strongly tempted to ask Hecate what is the name written on her skin. But then she thinks back; her friend is so shy and silent, so bashful in feelings that she does not want to make her uncomfortable and risk a fight for something silly. A name is just a name, and Hecate may simply not have any. Her feelings, on the other hand, must be safeguarded and cured so that they can grow more and more in their friendship, and maybe in something more.

Sometimes Pippa notices the looks that Hecate gives her: warm dark eyes so deep that Pippa, for a moment, is breathless.

They are just moments, fleeing from them quickly, but Pippa allows herself to hope, to believe that maybe, just  _ maybe _ , there is a chance for them.

One night while watching the stars side by side, she rests her head on Hecate’s shoulder. She feels Hecate become tense and wonders if it’s too much, but after a moment Hecate relaxes and grabs her hand without ever meeting her eyes. 

When they both go home that night, their dreams are not chaste. 

They have never been closer than now, and all those who gravitate around Pippa and Hecate recognize that something is definitely happening between the two. They should be blind to not see how their looks constantly gravitate to each other during the Yule party that Pippa has organized at her school during the holidays. 

Hecate had been flushed and hot at the neckline of Pippa's magenta dress; the witch had never seemed more beautiful to her than tonight. Pippa had invited Cackle's teachers - "to inspire cooperation between the two schools" the invitation said. But the only thing she wants to  _ inspire _ is Hecate Hardbroom, against a wall, while she kissed the marvelous expanse of pale skin of the column of her sinful neck.

Maybe with the excuse of a party and wine they could have exchanged a kiss under the mistletoe, and perhaps again, later, between her sheets. 

Like many years before, Pippa finds herself hoping that maybe she will have a special Yule. 

«Pippa really gave the best of herself this year.» Phyllis’s deputy approaches Hecate with two glasses in her hand for both of them and Hecate is momentarily stunned. 

«Pippa?» She asks while her heart beats so fast that she fears it will come out of her ribcage and her feelings will be exposed; she barely notices as the woman slips away from her to entertain other guests. 

There is a Pippa at Pentangle’s? Is she going to meet her, finally? The woman with whom she had spoken for most of her life and that she had never met was at Pentangle’s right now?

She looks at Phyllis across the room and feels horribly guilty. She was so fond of her and now, maybe soon, she will meet her soulmate and she will have to tell Phyllis. The thought makes her nauseated.

Mr. and Mrs. Pentangle join the party and Hecate notes that Phyllis is so similar to her father. A gentleman, a wizard whose magic is so powerful that she can perceive it on the other side of the room but also of a radiance and a kindness that immediately instills confidence and sympathy. While Phyllis rushes to embrace her parents as soon as she sees them, Hecate approaches to be introduced.

As soon as she approaches her, Hecate feels her hand shake in the warm grip of Phyllis' fingers. She presents her to her parents as her friend, the deputy of Cackle’s Academy and best mistress of potions in all of Great Britain. Hecate thinks the praise in her tone is much too flattering.

The Pentangles greet her warmly with a "well met" and a smile. 

«Pippa has not talked about anything but you for months; we are happy to finally meet the witch who makes our little girl smile so much,» Mr. Pentangle says, while Phyllis blushes the colour of her magenta dress.

But Hecate does not even notice it: she barely notices anything else in the room for a long moment as she realizes with horror, that Phyllis and Pippa are, in fact, the same person. 

She realizes for the first time that her Pippa has been in front of her for more than a year and that she stupidly, so stupidly, did not even notice. She had continued to talk to her imaginary Pippa, telling her about Phyllis, how much she liked the company of the other witch, and how she had begun to think of them as something more like friends. And now she found out that she was talking to an imaginary soulmate about the woman who was very likely her real soulmate all along. She feels so stupid.  

Why had Pippa not told her about her nickname? She realizes, with horror, that everyone at Pentangle’s, in fact, calls her exclusively Pippa. Her deputy, the teachers, even the cook. A continuous "Pippa", "Pippa", "Pippa". Hecate feels her head turn, feels the nausea rising to her mouth. She has kept her name hidden for so long. Why?

Of course it’s obvious why, there can only one horrible explanation: Pippa doesn’t want her. 

Maybe she knew how Hecate felt all along, and was being kind; perhaps she just didn’t want to tell Hecate openly that she didn’t like her. 

Maybe she had been so stupid that she didn’t notice that Pippa loved another person. Maybe she was so caught up in her own feelings of infatuation that she could not see the obvious in front of her eyes. 

Hecate clenches her fists so hard that the nails stick into the palm of her hand. The pain help her to look for a grounding, and she forces herself to take long breaths, barely registering Pippa's presence beside her until she feels her soft hand on her forearm.

«Are you all right, Hecate?» Pippa asks her with a faint voice, as if Hecate was a frightened sparrow. Her friend is in such a state of upheaval, and Pippa does not know why. The moment before they were all happy, and now Hecate looks at her with an expression of hatred that makes her jolt. 

Perhaps her father's words were the reason? Maybe Hecate finally understood Pippa’s true feelings and now she thinks that she is a terrible person, who had approached with the excuse of friendship but wanted something else? 

Pippa feels her blood freeze in her veins for fear of losing Hecate. She wants to tell her that she's sorry, that she did not want to ruin everything, that they can be anything Hecate wants them to be, that she will adjust her feelings if this will allow her to remain her friend, but before she can even open her mouth, she hears Hecate’s voice, unusually cold. 

«I think it would be best if I return home now. Goodbye...  _ Pippa _ » Hecate deliberately brands Pippa's name with contempt while she dematerializes even before Pippa can understand what is going happening. 

*****

January is the month that Hecate hates the most. She had received her stupid name in January, and the frost creeps into her bones and does not leave her alone. 

Lessons start again and she becomes more hard and cruel than usual. Nobody dares name Miss Pentangle and even just wearing a pink ribbon in class can mean a week of detention. Hecate is the terror of the school and Ada begs her constantly to speak with Pippa, to clarify what surely is a misunderstanding. That she doesn’t know what happened but there is always a remedy if people want to find it. 

But Hecate is immovable. 

Pippa tries to contact her through a mirror for the first weeks, but when she sees that Hecate will not answer any of her calls she stops. She tries to send her familiar up to the Hecate’s room with a message bound at his leg, but the animal almost dies frozen because Hecate will not open the window to welcome Pippa's messages. 

Pippa cries for weeks; nobody at Pentangle’s dares to disturb her, and Pippa is grateful of the time her staff gives her to recover from her broken heart. Every day, when she wake up with eyes still swollen with tears and a throbbing headache she finds a pink donut on her bedside table and she knows that the kitchen staff are trying to cheer her up after the whole castle could hear her wandering like a soul in pain through the empty rooms in the middle of the night. 

Pippa’s father threatens to go to Hecate directly at Cackle’s if she does not deign to answer his little girl, but her mother convinces him that it is better if he leaves Pippa to resolve certain things on her own, for which Pippa is very grateful. Hecate would surely hate her even more if her father became involved. 

Hecate remains embittered and every time her reflection makes her see Pippa's name written on her skin, all the pain and the anger come back as if Yule had just happened. She closes herself in the library to find a spell that would at least allow her to mask Pippa's name, knowing that when you receive The Name it’s impossible remove it; those who have tried it remained horribly disfigured, or even lost their lives in the attempt, with the name still etched onto their lifeless bodies. 

She tries with a chant, and another, but the name remains magenta and bright, and it seems that every time, it regains strength and vigor. She tries a potion to even out the colour of her skin. She become a brilliant magenta from head to toe. 

She must remain confined in her room for two days.

She tries a masking spell, but her breast grow disproportionately, which seems to work for the moment, as the name isn’t visible under it, but Hecate decides to reverse the spell anyway because it would be embarrassing to have to explain this sudden growth. 

She must remain confined in her room for a whole week.

Nothing works and she feels increasingly frustrated. Her work is affected and Ada is worried about her. This madness will be finish and if the two concerned do nothing to fix the matter between them, someone will have to do it for them. 

Ada flies to Pentangle’s with the excuse of organizing an event for both their schools. 

When Ada enters Pippa's office, she notices that it is not just her own Deputy who is still suffering; Pippa seems tired and has lost the light that usually enveloped her the times she had seen her in the company of Hecate. Even her clothes are different, less gaudy, less pink. She wears a cream-coloured blouse over a flowered skirt and seems to be deprived of her usual life force. 

They discuss the afternoon they have planned to pass on to their students to stock up on ingredients in the forest of Cackle’s Academy. Pippa plasters a polite smile on her face; it’s not Ada fault if Hecate is such a silly witch. She still feels awful thinking about her and her sudden departure that day. She relives it day and night in her nightmares. Sometimes in her dreams she manages to grab Hecate's arm, sometimes it is only a glance, sometimes she even gets a kiss in front of everyone, but after she wakes up, when reality falls again in front of her, she starts crying again while she clings to the only thing she still has, the name of her love inscribed on her skin indelibly. 

«An activity to link our schools, » Ada says carefully, making Pippa emerge from her thoughts.    
«And it would be so nice if even teachers participated, don’t you think?»

Pippa knows how the older witch is trying to lead the discussion. Pippa's piercing expression does not deter Ada, who continues as if she did not see the suffering expression of the other witch. 

«Hecate doesn't know what name you wear,» Ada says as if it were an everyday subject between them, and Pippa's head snaps to attention while Ada takes a sip of tea.

«She doesn't know?» Pippa asks incredulously. She was so certain that Hecate had left because she had seen somehow, that Hecate knew.

With shaking hands she unbuttons her blouse to reveal the name of Hecate engraved in her skin. Ada doesn’t seems surprised, only relieved. 

«Don’t stop trying to talk to her. Despite her intelligence, sometimes she can be the most blind witch on earth. Hecate is like a daughter to me and I wish for her to be happy, and right now she isn’t. I think she is the Hecate you're looking for,» Ada assures her while two stray tears track down Pippa’s cheeks. 

_ No, I don’t thinks it’s her. You were at the Yule celebrations too. You saw what happened!  _ She would finally like to cry openly. Instead she swallows her tears and quickly resumes her facade, saying goodbye to Ada and wishing her a good day. 

The day programmed by Ada is approaching inexorably and Pippa is half happy and half terrified by the possibility of meeting Hecate and finally talking with her again. The journey on her broom is silent, the knot in her stomach does not melt, and not even the excited chatter of the students can distract her anxiety at the thought that, soon, she will see the woman she loves. 

When she lands on Cackle’s verdant lawns, flooded by the sun, the disappointment reads easily on her face when she finds not Hecate, but a witch named Miss Drill waiting for her. But she will not be discouraged, she will not allow Hecate's stubbornness to ruin her day, so she presents herself with a smile and everyone goes into Hollow Wood.

The day is shining and warm, Miss Drill is beautiful and kind and Pippa can see, on her neck in silver the name of her soulmate Marigold. Pippa smiles and rests the palm of her hand softly near her breasts, thinking of Hecate. Miss Drill has a way with the children that Pippa finds very appropriate and responsible while they enjoy the walk and the sun. 

Hecate, inside the castle, doesn’t find peace. She had a fight with Ada when she told her that Pippa was coming to Cackle’s that day. Had Ada really expected that Hecate would simply agree to see her again without asking for her opinion? That she would come down to the garden to welcome her as if nothing had happened between them and, furthermore, spend the day with her? She had behaved horribly without answering calls and letters; she had vanished from nowhere, and Ada expected Pippa to simply forgive her for her behaviour? 

She is so upset by the thought that Pippa is so close to her, but that she will not see her, that when a first year muddles up her potion, flooding the room with blue smoke, she simply cleans the air of the class with a wave of her hand without a word to the poor child who seems completely terrified by the unusual silence. No one dares to say anything until Hecate dismisses the class and suddenly finds herself alone. 

She is even more obsessed with Pippa's thought.

She moves to her rooms and observes the forest below from the window, looking for a flash of pink that she doesn’t see. She grips the stone frame of her window with a frustrated sigh and feels distraught. The dark, cold and damp castle does nothing to lessen her bleak mood, so she decides to stroll through the sunny gardens – and absolutely not to look for Pippa and come across her casually,  _ absolutely no _ -

Meanwhile in the wood the students of the two schools have fun and make friends. Pippa recognizes the girl – Mildred - who had participated and won the spelling bee, and they talk about her non-magical origins and how Hecate does not approve of her, but how the year before, Hecate had protected her in all possible ways from the wrath of Miss Cackle’s soulmate, how she had been brave in trying to keep everyone safe and how she had almost lost all her magic to protect them all. Mildred is excessively laudable towards Miss Hardbroom in the hope that Pippa will forgive her from, well… whatever the cause of their breakdown. 

Now the students are exasperated by this HB - always grumpy and easily irritable. They had spent more than a year with a more patient and helpful Miss Hardbroom while Pippa had been part of her life, and Mildred and her friends are intent on bringing peace back between the two teachers, trying to put Miss Hardbroom in the best light. 

For her part, hearing about Hecate’s fearlessness, her courageousness, fills Pippa with pride; she wants to know everything she lost during the distance, and when - slightly subtly - Mildred emphasizes how happy Miss Hardbroom had become thanks to their relationship, Pippa is almost brought to tears for the memories of the evenings playing chess, of the laughter and the little secrets she could slowly get out of Hecate in their conversations under the stars, at that moment when she had thought something was blossoming between them. 

What Pippa doesn’t know is that Hecate is right on the edge of the woods, eyes closed, her body turned towards the trees in search of Pippa's magic. Just one taste, just knowing that everything is going well without her - not that she does not trust Miss Drill, but the woman does not have her own authority with the children, and someone could put them in danger - to hurt Pippa - she feels even more selfish to think first of Pippa's well-being rather than that of her pupils, but her chest seems tight in a painful grip at the thought of the stories circulating on Hollow Wood. 

They decide to split into two distinct groups. The first, led by Miss Drill will collect flowers and buds in the forest; the second, led by Pippa, will collect the algae on the edge of the river. These are simple tasks, but ones the students will have fun performing. It's a hot day and the water will make everything more fun. 

The chatter of the few girls (most of them prefer to pick flowers rather than slimy algae) makes Pippa imagine how it would have been if she and Hecate had attended the same academy. Would they be friends? Would they have gathered ingredients together and, always together, would they prepare potions? She watches the long dark braids of Mildred Hubble, making her wonder how Hecate would have looked at that age. 

With delicate strokes of her wrist she eradicates the algae from their positions and then sends them to stack in the baskets they have brought; the girls seem grateful for the aid. Pippa winks at them and continues to collect the plants until she suddenly feels the earth shift under her feet. She wonders how it is possible that she did not notice the yielding ground before even as she tumbles ruinously into the river water. 

The current drags her quickly into deep waters and Pippa, who has never learned to swim, panics. She tries to transfer but her emotions are upside down and the current of the river is dragging her under. She wants to scream for help but her voice does not come out of her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut and lets herself be swallowed by the water.

Two strong but gentle arms are suddenly around her. She feels she can breathe again, her head back out of the water. She opens her eyes and sees Hecate hold her tight against the current of the river while supporting her. 

«Hold on to me,» she is telling to her over the din of the water. «It's all right, you're safe now, trust me.» And Pippa feels an immediate heat enveloping her. Safe in Hecate’s arms her panic slowly dissipates and, when Hecate notices that she no longer seems quite so overwhelmed, she transfers both of them safely out of the water. 

Pippa finds herself standing, dripping with water and inside the castle. She can only assume that she is in Hecate's rooms, still in her arms, even if she does not want to look away from the other witch's face. They both gasp and Pippa is about to open her mouth to thank Hecate when she freezes. Hecate's eyes fill with something Pippa can’t quite place; she does not know whether to describe it as panic or hope or another feeling that she cannot grasp, until Hecate blushes. As Pippa looks down at her own chest, she notes that her pale pink blouse has been made completely transparent by the water, and clings to her fully exposed, straight nipples on her chest due to the lack of a bra. She sees Hecate's hand gently resting beneath her breasts and she only realizes now that Hecate can see her name in dark ink on her skin. 

Pippa holds her breath as Hecate traces the letters gently one by one with the tip of her finger. 

«You've always been you. I never stopped loving you,» whispers Pippa in a calm tone with a soft smile, gently caressing Hecate's cheek. 

«I was… I was really me… I was so blind.» Hecate tries to empty her face from all emotion, too overwhelmed by the hope that she suddenly allows herself to feel. Her hand seems not to respond to the commands of her brain. She should stop touching Pippa without her consent, but the snag in Pippa's breath when the tip of her fingernail touches her nipple shatters her and finally, finally, she lets all her feelings for Pippa pour into her like a river in flood.

She crushes their still-soaked bodies so close that she thinks they could merge and she desperately kisses Pippa with all the courage she has.

Pippa grasps Hecate's hair by the nape, and she kisses her with all the despair and desire she has felt in all the months they had been away. 

Hecate feels as if her heart were suddenly free. Pippa's name on her chest pulsates with every breath, and every word comes trembling out of her lips between a kiss and another while she apologizes to Pippa. She apologizes for not understanding, she apologizes for not being brave, for not having responded to her mirror calls, for having almost left her familiar to die of cold; she apologizes for a million things, but Pippa closes her mouth with kisses that tell her she has forgiven her.

The warmth of their bodies so close together seeps through their wet clothes. The little moans and gasps that Pippa lets slip from the back of her throat leave Hecate stunned with pleasant sensations she has never felt before.   
They kiss and kiss even while Hecate transfers them to her room, where nobody can disturb them.    
Then, realising what she did, she suddenly moves away from Pippa's arms.

«I… I, I do not want to presume- » She tries to articulate, flushing bright red, but Pippa smiles brightly as she thinks she wants to see it again and again on Hecate's face - and not just for embarrassment.

«I want this.» She reassures her by crushing a finger on Hecate’s kiss-swollen lips to silence her before dragging her back into a wet, gaping kiss. 

With some difficulty they take off their still wet clothes, the material sticking to their skin making the task difficult while they stumble towards the bed, continuing to kiss. 

Pippa's back reaches the soft mattress while Hecate's hands and mouth descend to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses to her left breast. With her tongue she traces the letters that make up her name as she had done before with her fingers, before taking Pippa's stiff nipple in her mouth.  

Pippa arches against the sheets, Hecate's hot breath on her skin making her gasp and moan. With her hands she looks for a hold in Hecate's hair; a slight stroke of her wrist releases it from the tight bun to fall all around them in soft curls. Pippa is enchanted and grasps them reverently. Their eyes meet and both recognize the feeling that is there, undeniable and powerful. 

Hecate goes back up to Pippa's lips to kiss her again and again. Now that she has discovered this wonder she never wants to abandon them, but also Pippa wants Hecate desperately and, so, with Hecate relaxed above her, she overturns their positions by lying astride Hecate's waist. Hecate looks on, amazed and suddenly shy.

Exposed now to Pippa's hungry gaze, her impulse is to cover her shame, but Pippa presses her hands into the mattress and trails kisses down to her breast, and as Hecate had done before, she traces her own name with the tip of her tongue. 

When Pippa looks at her again, their eyes are both wet with tears, but happy. 

All these months of pretending to hate Pippa, of not wanting to see her anymore were just a farce, a fragile lie to protect her heart. Hecate realizes that there has not been a moment since she received her name that she did not want and love her desperately. 

«I love you,» she whispers, captured by the feeling that rushes through her like a stormy sea, an explosive spell, the barricades that collapse after the siege, and Pippa smiles brightly as two tears escape her eyes.

«I'm so happy Hecate, I love you so much,» Pippa admits, overwhelmed with emotion.

There is something about being connected to her soulmate again that shakes Pippa deep.    
Finally, she finally feels that magic intertwined as she had always thought it would happen, as if their bodies and their souls created magic just for them, like the stars that appear on the horizon at sunset, like a shy bud blooming in the sun. 

Pippa is not a fool, she knows that they still have so much to talk about and will still fight and that she and Hecate will not always agree on everything, but now they are together and Hecate's hands are touching her with such reverence that Pippa struggles to hold back her tears. 

Hecate just wants to be able to nest under Pippa's trembling skin, keep her forever so close, close to her heart, not just her name, but her solid and tangible presence. 

Sitting with Pippa in her lap, Hecate kisses the tears one by one and this tenderness, this attention that Hecate seems to double Pippa's sobs and tears. 

«I must seem so stupid. I'm so happy, but I'm crying like a fool,» mutters Pippa, hiding in Hecate's chest while Hecate holds her close. 

«You are not stupid at all,» Hecate reassures her. The accumulation of the intense day must have had much more to do with Pippa's warm tears on her skin than the simple tenderness of a caress.

She wants to keep Pippa in her arms forever, rock her and make her feel safe, but then Pippa moves against her, and Hecate holds back a moan while she feels her breasts against Pippa's, the curls between Pippa's legs touching her belly making her hot and suddenly again aware of what's going to happen.

With firm but gentle hands she leads Pippa to lie down between her pillows, grabs her breasts in her hands, enjoying the way Pippa’s expression suddenly changes. Her eyes darken and she barely arches up as Hecate’s hands descend to her stomach, her sides, and then stop at the apex of her thighs. 

«Can I touch you?» questions Hecate with reverence.

Pippa picks up her hand and kisses her knuckles before guiding her between her legs, where Hecate can already feel that Pippa is so ready for her. She holds her breath at the sensation while Pippa gasps breathlessly at the first contact. 

It's all the encouragement Hecate needs. She returns to kiss Pippa as her hand moves against her, first gently, then building a rhythm that makes Pippa rock her hips to meet her movements. Pippa clings to her shoulders, to her hair, sighing her name over and over, telling her that she loves her, and Hecate descends on her body. She puts her mouth and tongue to work while Pippa arches beneath her, sinking her fingers into Hecate’s scalp and drawing her as close as possible.

Pippa does not care to be vocal in her pleasure when all she wants is to let Hecate know how much she is loved, how much she is desired. 

Hecate adds her fingers, and Pippa comes with a strangled groan in her throat and the stars behind her tight eyelids. 

It takes a moment for her to become aware of her body again, and of Hecate's. Hecate holds her close, and looks at her with such amazement and love that Pippa can’t help but come back to kiss that mouth that was able to love in ways Pippa never could have dreamed. 

Hecate stiffens when she feels Pippa's hand slip between them and into the curls between her legs. And Pippa, sweet, splendid Pippa, understanding that it is much less easy for her to be touched, that intimacy is not natural for her, stops to wait for her consent. 

Hecate takes two big breaths and nods, partly excited and partly terrified of being touched so intimately, to be vulnerable and entirely at another person’s mercy. 

But then, that person is Pippa.  _ Her _ Pippa, who she has been searching for and dreaming of for years and years, since she was just a girl. 

Her face catches fire at the first touch, and she closes her eyes so hard she sees fiery spots behind her eyelids. She feels Pippa's free hand raising her chin as she instructs her to open her eyes and look at her. Her gentle voice and her touch convince her and when Hecate focuses her gaze on her, she reads so clearly the devotion and the love inside those hazel eyes that she no longer feels shame for her body, too thin and slouchy and for the pleasure she is feeling. 

«Such a good girl.» Pippa murmurs in her ear, and Hecate groans unable to restrain herself. And, with Pippa's voice in her ear assuring her how well she is doing and how good she is, how much Pippa loves her, how wonderful Hecate is, and her fingers inside her, Hecate comes trembling in Pippa's arms. 

Hecate feels her world move completely off its axis and for the first time in her life she feels full of love to give and ready to receive it in return. Pippa's smile and her eyes are so clearly full of love for her, it's something she never expected to see. Soulmate magic is ancient and powerful, but until now Hecate has never been able to imagine how much.

Pippa's warm, loose body fits perfectly in her arms, as if their bodies were created specifically for this purpose, for this exact moment. They kiss lazily, slowly, all the hunger from moments before transformed into gentle and whispered confessions.

Hecate can not help telling her that she loves her again and again between kisses. She wants to be absolutely certain that Pippa knows she will never run away again. And Pippa understands, knows her insecurities and she seals every word with her lips covering Hecate's lips, kiss after kiss.

Pippa falls asleep peacefully, finally free from the torment felt for months, curled in Hecate’s arms, their legs intertwined and gold and black hair mingling on the pillow.

But Hecate can’t fall asleep. It's as if a flock of bats had suddenly unfolded in her belly. It seems silly to feel this feeling after having already made love with Pippa, but seeing Pippa sleeping so peacefully in her arms, trusting her after everything that happened, leads Hecate almost to tears. Everything seems like a wonderful dream that she does not deserve. Hecate catalogues and touches every freckle, every scar and sign on Pippa’s skin, every inch of her. She wants to learn Pippa as if she were a sacred book.

She must fall asleep at some point, because she stirs, coming back to her own body at last, and realizes that Pippa’s body shakes and trembles against her. She immediately opens her eyes, terrified that Pippa is sick or something terrible is happening to her, until she realizes that Pippa is just having a bad dream.

Pippa wakes up with Hecate's voice calling her gently; a sense of loss dissipates with the last remnants of the dream within her mind, while the image of the child of her dreams and Hecate’s face overlap, making her realize that there is something obvious that she missed. She clings to Hecate, who reassures her that everything is fine, that she was only dreaming and that she is safe now.

Pippa stares at her and suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle fit magically into place in her childhood memories.

«You're mine, my Hecate.» Pippa is incredulous and still a bit clouded by revelation.

«I’m yours,» Hecate murmurs holding her tight, stroking her back in a calming and soothing movement.

Pippa smiles, eyes shining with emotion, while she tells her about the dream, that distant memory at Pentangle’s. Hecate remembers the day of Pentangle's inauguration, how her parents had dragged her home and sworn to hate the Pentangles, how she had asked to come back to play with the pretty blonde girl whose name she did not know, and how she had earned a slap from her father for daring to ask.

They speak and speak. They tell each other their lives, about the day when they received the other's name, all they had imagined for years and years, their hopes and dreams.

They kiss and kiss and kiss and make love again.

They walk hand in hand, a promise written on their skin and in their hearts, for the rest of their lives.


End file.
